


Who's In The Kitchen With Sammy?

by jaminsjiminsjams



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Supernatural Reader insert, sam winchester x reader - Freeform, sam winchester x you - Freeform, sam x reader - Freeform, sam x you - Freeform, spn fanfic, spn fanfiction, spn reader insert, supernatural fanfic - Freeform, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform, supernatural!thanksgiving fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 20:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaminsjiminsjams/pseuds/jaminsjiminsjams
Summary: Y/n is cooking Thanksgiving dinner, and Sam does his best to “help.”





	Who's In The Kitchen With Sammy?

Y/n hums to herself as she moves around the kitchen. It had been a few months since she had met Sam and Dean, and she had decided to stick with them. They’d all saved each other’s asses multiple times: they were all fond of each other by this point. Y/n smiles lightly as she stirs the potatoes, adding some more spices.

She glances over her shoulder when a door creaks open and smiles. “Sam,” she says, turning back to the stove after nodding at him. He stares at her, a tentative smile on his lips.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, striding over to her.

“I’m makin’ dinner,” y/n replies, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at him. “Today’s Thanksgiving, remember?” Sam’s eyes light up, and he smiles.

“Can I help?”

“If you really want.” Sam smiles and moves to her side, resisting the urge to sling his arm around her waist and pull her closer.

“I’m no master chef,” he says, peeking into the pot of homemade mashed potatoes, “but I can cook…some.” Y/n peeks up at him, quirking one eyebrow up. “A little bit,” Sam says, his lips twitching into a smile. “Real simple things.” Y/n smiles warmly and nudges him slightly.

“That’s good. You could make…the stuffing? There’s a box over there- nothing fancy, it’s simple. Just follow the instructions on the box.” Sam nods and snags the box, pulling out a pot with it.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they cook, slowly making their way to desert preparations. Y/n lifts the huge bag of flour, attempting to put it onto the counter. Sam laughs, watching her struggle with it for a few seconds before moving forward, reaching out to grab it.

“Here, I got it y/n/n.” She laughs and pulls away slightly.

“No,” she says, grunting as she attempts to lift it up again. “I- can carry…this…on…m-shi-” Before either of them can react, the flour bag slips from her hands and crashes to the ground, exploding all over the place. “No,” Y/n whines slightly, coughing as she inhales some of the flour. Sam’s lips curls into a smile.

“Why’d you get that big bag anyways, y/n/n?” He asks.

“You never know how much flour you’ll need,” she murmurs, crouching down next to the huge pile. “This- this is gonna take ages to clean up, and then we’ll need to get more flour…” She sighs, and Sam crouches down next to her.

“It’s not that bad, y/n/n. It’ll only take half an hour, with both of us working.” She sighs, and covers her face with her hands, shaking her head.

“I just-” Her sentence is lost to a yelp when she feels the silky powder flow down her back and poof around her face, and she whips her head up, causing the flour to fly everywhere. “What the- Sam, what are you-” before she can say anything else, Sam grins and nudges her slightly, causing her to fall forward into the flour pile. “Sam Winchester you stop it right now!” She shouts, a light giggle clouding her anger. Sam laughs as she sits up, almost completely covered in flour. “Sam,” she reaches out, attempting to push him into the pile, but he just nudges her back down. Y/n closes her eyes and holds her hand out. “Sam, seriously. We need to clean this up.” Sam’s smile fades, and he nods, reaching out and grabbing her hand to help her up.

That’s when she pulls him down, and he falls into the shrinking pile of flour. He gasps, staring at her with wide eyes. “You didn’t,” he says. Y/n smiles slyly and shrugs, throwing a handful of flour in his face. “Oh-okay, that’s it.”

 

“Sammy! Have you seen if Y/n was done with-” Dean’s sentence cuts short when he sees Sam and Y/n lying on the kitchen floor, making snow angels out of…flour? Y/n’s eyes widen at this, and she leaps up.

“Oh, no. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She murmurs, opening the oven only to be greeted with a billowing cloud of smoke. “O-oh no,” she whispers, staring at the crisp turkey. “I- I totally forgot about dinner.” Sam stands up quickly, swaying slightly.

“It was my fault, Dean.” He says, seeing his brother’s stone-cold expression. Dean’s gaze flits between the two of him, and he purses his lips.

“Dean- no, I’m sorry- It was my fault, I-” Dean laughs, his face breaking out into a smile.

“Ah, don’t worry about it kiddo.” He says. “You and Sammy just clean up the kitchen, mkay? I’ll go see if I can’t grab us something.” He pulls the keys out of his pocket, and then turns around, almost as an afterthought. “By the way- why are you guys covered in flour?”

Sam and Y/n point to each other, each attempting an innocent, puppy dog eye. Dean’s lips quirk up in another small smile, and he shakes his head, going out to the garage.

“Love-sick.” He murmurs to himself. “That’s what they are- clueless, love-sick psychos.”


End file.
